Someone Better
by Inamioly
Summary: Set in Book 6. After Lavender and Ron snog, Hermione runs away from them, ending up on a stairwell. What if it was not only Harry but Malfoy her company? Note: Description according to the movie
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, hello, everyone! It's been a week, yes, but here I am again. And with a story featuring The Pair (high-pitched scream of adoration here) of all pairs. Hermione and Draco. I hope you enjoy it! I wrote it on my way back to Portugal after a seven days trip around France, so I humbly apologize should there be any mistakes in here.**

**Enjoy!**

**Febya**

_**Disclaimer: My younger brother says that the fact that I write them doesn't necessarily mean they belong to me. I guess he's right…**_

Her amused, condescending, and yet somewhat embarrassed smile vanished from her features, the ghost of Harry's words taunting her heart, wounded beyond any merciful repair. A betrayed frown smothered the usual glint from her eyes. The loud clapping of childish, immature hands and the screeches of pathetic acceptance and eagerness to witness some more idiocies, pestering every inch of her frail, trembling body, impelled her to make a silent, furtive retreat, for she began strolling backwards at a disoriented pace, ending the saunter the moment the exceedingly bright light adorning the Common Room no longer bothered her eyes.

She glanced around, finding her surroundings to be intimidating, what with the castle's shadow following her own, thus seeking refuge in a nearby set of stairs appearing murky enough to suit her mood. Hermione stumbled down the first couple of steps, deciding upon the cleanest among the ones belonging to the dirty stairwell. Her back leant against the cold, rough stony wall, she took off her shoes, massaging her sore feet afterwards. The whirlwind of strenuous sensations that had overpowered her sensibility were now in control of her entire emotional system, and the tears she had been so adamant to retain escaped from her already watery eyes. Her chest quivered violently with the intensity of the first few sobs, magnified by the pain of biting her bottom lip with inadequate strength.

"Taking your shoes off in public, Granger? How… unladylike of you."

A voice, unexpected for itself, invaded her shelter, sneering its way past the weak defenses her mind had built up. She was forced to look up from her misery. Her eyes regained a shimmer, only it hardened the moment they landed roughly on two silver orbs.

"Since you'd never actually… seen me as a girl… before, I see no re… reason for your shocked tone." She managed, never withdrawing from the battle between both their stares.

"True. And yet… here I am, shocked. What about that?" Draco Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows in ridicule bewilderment, and Hermione inhaled heavily not to succumb to the tempting idea of slapping him out of her temporary safe haven. He embraced her stillness as her being favorable to his stay, and swiftly climbed up the stairwell, settling with the step above hers. He stretched his legs to their maximum length, and she shoved them off with a grunt of annoyance when they touched her toes.

"I don't remember inviting you to sit with me." Hermione huffed, dangerously close to losing the last shred of secure politeness.

"Funny. Neither do I." Draco caressed his chin with his fingers, smirking. "I wonder why's that."

"Let me take a wild guess." Hermione requested, a threateningly warm smile flourishing on her lips.

"Be my guest." He allowed, the pleasant smirk provoking her.

"Because I didn't!" She yelled up at him, her face inches from his nose. His mouth was ready to retort, but somehow he decided against it. The odd sparkle his eyes dropped a notch, and ever so subtly, he flinched at her gaze.

"Weasel's a git, anyway." He mumbled, defiantly, but his words failed to carry the same venom they used to.

"Excuse me?" Her tiny voice left her mouth and her eyes filled with tears at the sudden change of atmosphere. She choked on them, and glanced expectedly at him.

"I hear things." He explained, his voice suddenly soft as it had never been. "I heard the pink chick… you know, the one who's always bouncing and giggling to get Weasel's attention… I heard she snogged his brains out."

Hermione closed her eyes at the mention of the couple, pursing her lips together.

"And who… who told you that?" She whispered, a tear of defeat rolling down her cheek.

"Fat Lady." He said simply, finding a sudden interest in a scratch on the floor.

She raised an eyebrow at that, but formulated a doubt merely in her mind. The silence settled in.

***

Harry Potter scanned the crowd, frenetically looking for the weepy girl. The yells of delight and cheering on the multitude's behalf offered no help on that matter, for he eventually conceded defeat and left through the Portrait.

"If you're looking for her, she went that way." The Fat Lady kindly informed him, pointing the direction with an umbrella.

Harry muttered a quick thank you and stormed past her and onto the set of stairs. He spotted two silhouettes and walked forward, as quietly as he could given the circumstances, almost screaming in fury as he became conscious of who the distraught girl's company was. Kept in his place by mere chance, his brain yelling at him for doing nothing, he felt a hand on his shoulder. And the familiar scent of vanilla and peach. He gently grabbed the hand and turned to face its owner. Ginny Weasley smiled at him.

"Don't go in there. Just wait." She asked him, a pleading grin spreading on her lips.

"But… it's Malfoy." He stuttered, confused and slightly taken aback by the effect she had on his will power.

"I know. And I like it as much as you do. However…" Her secretive smile deepened and Harry fought the urge to grin back. "I've seen it. Something's… different."

"What… what do you mean?" He gulped, unexpectedly not as much concerned for his friend as he was for himself. _No kissing allowed._

"Look. See for yourself." She offered.

And he did. He glanced around, and then focused on the pair.

***

"Can I ask you something?" Draco finally spoke, breaking not only the silence but also her chain of thought.

Hermione was startled. Not at the question itself, but at the fact he asked. "Hum… sure?" She had long given up trying to make him leave, choosing to be content with figuring out why he was being relatively civil.

Finding more astonishment, if possible, in her non-denial than she had in his demonstration of politeness, he cleared his throat. Several times. "Why… why settle with Weasel?"

She sighed profoundly. The subject was still sore in her heart, and she felt everything but up to discuss it aloud. Nonetheless, she murmured. "I didn't settle. Had I settled with him… I would be with him. I am not."

"Obviously." He agreed, matter-of-factly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at that and crossed her arms.

"And now you're pouting." He stated, amused. "Like a mature Perfect would."

"What… the _Bloody Hell_… do you want?" She exploded, the sentence leaving her mouth without previous warning. Her voice came out low, steady, focused, and tears stained with the whirlwind of emotions that had been bothering her from the beginning cascaded down her face. The frustration over not getting him weighed on her shoulders. His mood swings were finally disturbing her, and she screamed inwardly loud enough to have her headache double its damage to her brain.

"I want to… show you." He started, placing a hand on her chin. She fought him at first, outraged, but his strength took the best of her. His grip was gentle, yet firm, and his eyes locked themselves on hers. He pulled her face towards his until she was a second away from it. "I _will_ show you that… you don't have to settle with him. Ron Weasley is not who you deserve. You deserve someone better…" Gravity did the rest of the work. Their lips touched, and he wiped the remaining tears from her cheek. The kiss was tender, soft, innocent. And she wanted but to end it. But as Gravity had started it, the need for air ended it. With a soft moan of melancholy, she watched him stay behind as she straightened herself up. He wore a _Smile_. "You deserve someone better than him."

"Like whom…?" There was a pregnant pause, and as she saw no intention of answering her in his eyes, she surprised herself. "You?" She wanted to erase the hopeful tone to her voice, but somehow she failed. Her sense chose to ignore, or at least mask it with a vivid memory of the kiss, her wanting a Death Eater to be her lover.

"Oh, no, not me." Her smile dropped, hurt, and he was quick to dismiss her assumptions. He caressed her cheek once more, taking his time. "No, I don't deserve you either." Sadness flooded his eyes as he pronounced his words of farewell. He got up, gently unwrapping her hand from his wrist. She watched him fade away as he hesitated down the stairs and inside a dark corridor.

***

"No way." Harry managed.

"Way." Ginny whispered

**A/N: So, your choice. Should I turn this into a two-or-more-shot? Or should I keep this as a one-shot? Review, tell me what you think, people. I need lots and lots of encouragement :P **

**Kisses,**

**Febya**


	2. Chapter 2

The Common Room was dead silent, an atmosphere of secrecy soaring over its sole inhabitant. The fire danced for her, warming her chilled toes, crimsoning her cheeks, and the rain outside provided an even more unwelcoming picture of the outside, unknown world. Hermione Granger slept on the couch, a smile gracing her lips, a slight frown of amusement framing her delicate features, her feet entwined as a vicious habit. Her hands softly clenched on the pillow, her breathing evenly, it was with surprise that she met the first thunder.

_Boom._

The frown acquired a tone of disconcertment, and her eyebrows furrowed deeply onto her tightly closed eyes. Still immersed in the heaviest of sleeps, she slowly began smothering the unaware pillow, and the background to her dream swiftly changed into an unsettling one.

"_No, no, no… please, don't…"_

The fire petered out as another thunder made itself at home, leaving behind the slimmest trace of the shimmering balmy light that had greeted her rest.

"_Please, don't... no!"_

Lazy footsteps quickened their pace at the anguished cry, and were instantly by her side, vigorously shaking her by the shoulders.

"Hermione."

"_I can... I can be..."_

"Hermione, wake up. It's just a dream."

"_I swear. I will be..."_

"Hermione."

"_I promise... just don't... don't leave me-"_

Harry Potter grabbed her upper body and sat her up, forcing her to open her eyes, a confused glimmer in them. The girl, panting heavily, stared blankly at the boy sitting by her side, and then, gradually, pairs of tears cascaded down her cheeks. Harry hugged her, somewhat awkwardly, and leant back onto the soft fabric of the couch.

"It was not about Ron, was it?" Harry asked, gently, his hand brushing her shoulder.

She sobbed once and answered timidly. "No."

"It's okay." He soothed, quietly.

Her sobs were, for longer than it took the rain to stop, the only sound impeding the nestling of a healthy layer of silence.

The corridor, though embellished with majestic windows, and despite the advanced time, was shadowy. The rain still had not stopped, and the sun had yet to make its saviour-like appearance. Hermione glanced at her two sidekicks, and forged a smile at their preoccupied frowns.

"Thank you." She said, eyeing her leisurely walking feet. "You know, for letting me oversleep."

Harry glanced at Ginny, who nodded. "Don't mention it. It's Sunday and you were obviously... tired."

"I was." She agreed. "And you were... you were fantastic, tonight, Harry." Her eyes pleaded for understanding, and he smiled reassuringly.

"No worries, Mione. I've had my fair share of nightmares myself."

The Great Hall's giant door was visible, although still relatively distant, and Hermione's stomach growled with hunger. Given the late hour, the corridor was empty, and she believed the big room to be as well, which only sounded favourable. She breathed in and out, and watched as the imposing door kept growing bigger.

"Oh, that reminds me. We've already eaten, Harry." Ginny suddenly spoke, elbowing Hermione.

"Ouch." She rubbed it gently, slightly indignated, but overall unaware.

"Ups, sorry. _It was meant for you_." Ginny mouthed to Harry.

Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly, and the redhead dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, right..." He concurred, sounding everything but convinced. "We have to... need to... you know..."

"Harry's going to tutor me in..." She glanced at a slashed piece of grass staining the otherwise neat floor. "Herbology."

"Oh?" Hermione stared at the clouds outside. But it's-"

"Raining? Yeah, I know. Apparently, Grapplys like this kind of weather the best." Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and motioned for him to start running. "Sorry, Mione. Have a nice breakfast."

Hermione eyed the running couple, and shook her head, disbelievingly.

"But they don't... they are sunny creatures." She called out to them, but surrendered as they were mere dots in an empty background by the time she tried. "Really, if they wanted to snog, all they had to was say so."

The Great Hall was silent but for her subtle chewing. A trio of First Year Gryffindors was hurriedly finishing up their plates, and the three other tables were empty. Filch guarded the door, looking important and proud of his post, eager to punish the three youngsters who insisted on eating lazily.

Hermione eyed a faintly enticing strawberry jelly, and then her bare toast. She took a sip of her pumpkin juice and slid her fingers along her toast.

"Did your Mother never tell you not to play with your food?"

That voice... Hermione fought the impossibly alluring urge to smile at his words, and scolded herself or having to do so. But she could not... so the result of her inner fight was a smirk. She was not one to be irrational, and suicidal even less, but there was something about the sneering to his voice that told her he did not intend to be impolite.

"Did yours never tell you it is rude to stare at someone else's plate?"

He chuckled softly, but quickly masked it with a snicker. He walked forward a few baby steps, and whispered into her ear.

"Someone's a quick learner."

"I'm not randomly called the smartest witch my age." She taunted, slightly vainly, a tinge of nervousness tainting her words.

"I bed to differ. As far as I'm concerned, second smartest." Draco replied, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh, really?" She smiled back, still eyeing her plate.

"Really."

"I always did think the Malfoys were erroneously supposing they had an heir. From where I stand, I see an heiress. I'm glad you agree." Hermione giggled.

"Wha-" Draco blanked, and then chuckled once more. "Wittiness doesn't suit you, Granger."

"I think it does." She laughed quietly.

"Did you sleep well?"

Her exchange was met with silence. Draco Malfoy sat beside Hermione Granger, both attentively staring at plates, waiting for something to break the silence they always had so much trouble breaking.

"I thought so. Neither did I."

"How _on Earth_ did you know?" A dumbfounded Harry asked, after stealing a glance at the pair from behind the giant door.

"I'm a girl of many talents, Harry." Ginny grinned, apparently finding the situation completely ordinary, trying to straighten his hair.

"Oh, but that's a battle not even you can win." Harry smiled and pointed at his ruffled hair.

"We'll see about that." She answered cheekily.

"You smiled. I know you did." Draco started, tentatively. Hermione raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "When I was talking to you... right now. I know you smiled. Why?"

"I am not quite sure I understand what you are asking." She responded, her fork harassing the toast.

"Last night..." He gulped, and she felt her previous mood coming back to haunt her. She remembered seeing him leave, their kiss the only vivid proof _they_ had happened. And she remembered not wanting to _not_ want to let him leave. And she remembered the wall of improbability their relationship had been met with the moment she had dreamt with it afterwards. She winced. "Last night you were crying. And I did what I know to do best. I mocked you, and then I kissed you."

"You kissed me..." Hermione whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. "And then..."

"And then I left you. Alone, in the darkness, while I crawled back to my shameful hole." His words were heavy with disgust. "I do not deserve you more than Weasel does. I was right. I thought I could have been wrong, but now I see-"

"No... No, Draco, I-"

"No, you do not get to make up excuses for my behaviour. I was a Slytherin." And for once, the way he said it, he showed the lack of pride in his House she had hoped he felt. "I was a Slytherin, and you deserved more than that."

"But-"

"N, pl-"

"Draco. Listen to me!" Hermione snapped. Her toast was dead... for good. "For crying out loud, I'm tired of people not listening to me, so you are _going to _listen to me. I once lost love in my life because he did not hear me, and so I went unnoticed, but that's not going to happen with you. You're... important for me to let you slip through my fingers... okay?" She finished, her words decreasing in volume and threat until they were nothing more than a timid whisper.

"I am?" He inquired, surprised, a smile gracing his lips. "Feisty, much?"

"Shush. You are. You were humble, and you were _my someone better_." She hammered. "You were no Slytherin." She giggled. "If you ask me, and don't you dare to puke on me, Draco Malfoy, I think you showed the Gryffindor in you."

"Bah, no way." He laughed in mock revulsion.

She smacked him in the arm.

"Ouch."

"Ups, it must have been the Slytherin in me. _Bah_."

"Such a child, this one..." He shook his head, feigning resignation.

"Witty, are we, now? I see... stop being a freaking drama queen, and kiss me already."

He was happy to oblige.

"I've got to stop feeling so surprised, right?" Harry gaped.

"Right." Ginny laughed.

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the long wait. I'll just say that I hope it was worth every second. **

**Kisses, Febya**


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